Unsealed!! The Return of the Great Demon King Piccolo

Everything was pitch black. It had been pitch black for three centuries now.

In the emptiness of the Void, the Great Demon King stared down at his hands. His flesh had become decrepit and worn with age, his fingers twisted and mangled.

Time had always been a curious thing for him. He didn't age like the humans did. He watched them in his youth, watched how quickly their flesh wrinkled and faded away, watched how short their lives lasted. It had once pained him to see those he had been close to live their existence like mayflies in a pond, only perish before summer ended.

Now it pained him to realize that he was one of those mayflies. Time was running away from him, the countless grains in the hourglass slipping through his fingers as he tried to catch them, to cling to them for the time he had left.

There was little more than a shred of hope left within him -- a hope that the world had forgotten about The Great Demon King, a hope that some human would be foolish enough to release him into the world again. But that was a far cry from his reality, his wasting away in a world of nothingness.

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Word Count: 208
Word Total: 208

"I'm worried about Shana spending so much time with this..." At the sound of her husband's voice, Sheri turned around to glance at the kitchen table where Robert was reading the morning newspaper. Beside him was half-filled cup of coffee. He placed the paper down to look up, confusion lighting up on his face momentarily.

"Blackfire?" Sheri asked when the middle-aged man didn't speak for several moments. She turned back to her dishes, picking up a small wash cloth in one hand and a dish with the other.

"Yes, Blackfire," Robert said. He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he leaned back against the chair. It creaked slightly from his weight, but did not give. "She should be in school now, not practicing fighting! She's eleven, Sheri! Eleven!"

Shana's mother sighed as she put the plate up and picked up a bowl next. They had discussed this before. Several times, in fact. "I know how you feel, honey; I felt the same way. But she did save our lives! Don't we owe a little trust for that?" Abandoning the sink, she pulled up a chair and sat across from her husband, wiping her hands on the apron she wore. The morning sun filtered through the window near the sink, casting a harsh glare through the kitchen.

"Yes, but..." He trailed off as his wife put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"She may be young, but she can make her own decisions. I talked to Blackfire; she said she wouldn't be putting Shana in any danger!" Robert heaved a sigh, bowing his head.

"I'm just worried about her," he muttered.

"As am I," Sheri said, getting back up and tightening the white ribbon that tied her hair back. "But she'll be fine, I'm sure." A silence gripped the room for a bit before Robert changed the topic.

"Did you ever replace that broken rice cooker?" he asked, picking up the newspaper once more as if nothing had happened.

Sheri returned to the dishes. "Yes! I found one at the thrift store yesterday! It was only twenty zeni; I had to grab it." She pointed at a small white container on the counter near the microwave and Robert glanced at it.

"It's smaller than our old one," he commented, then buried his attention back to the paper, muttering something about his baseball team losing. His wife chuckled, and picked the rice cooker up. Attempting to open the lid, she allowed a frown to cross her face.

"It's stuck!" she exclaimed. "Honey, can you open this?" Shana's father sighed, getting up and taking the rice cooker away from his wife. With a small grunt of effort, the man popped the top cleanly off.

"There, nothing to it, see?"

"Oh, you're so strong!" Sheri teased before her eyes went wide with terror. Smoke billowed out of the container, causing Robert to drop it to the ground. Both husband and wife backed up as the rice cooker rolled several inches, spewing out the supernatural smoke until almost the entire kitchen was obscured.

Word of Shana: 515/515

Light penetrated the Void, a blinding whiteness coming from above. The light drew him in, and he reached out a hand to it. Was this the light of death, or the light of his return? It mattered not at this point -- any freedom from his eternal prison was welcome, even it was only death.

He materialized on the physical plane for the first time in many a century as a swirling cloud of green-colored gas. The rice cooker he had been sealed inside trembled, and a crack split the side of the container as it crashed to the floor. The cloud of mist began to materialize, slowly solidifying into a humanoid form -- but what it turned into was far from human.

Long spirals of gas became arms and legs, the center transforming into a torso with a head on a spindly neck. The gas's tint stuck, and nearly every inch of flesh on the being's body was a moldy green, separated only by patches of yellowed, segmented skin at the forearms. The being stood up to its full height, towering over the rest in the room, its arms folded across its chest, partially hiding the kanji for "demon" on the outfit under them.

A head adorned with bug-like antennae stared down at them. Its piercing red eyes did not stare into their souls -- rather, they were apathetic. The Great Demon King's lip curled back ever so slightly into a smile, revealing a part of one of his fangs.

"Tell me, in this day and age," he said slowly, as to emphasize each word. "Do people still fear the name of The Great Demon King?"

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Word Count: 277
Word Total: 485

As the smoke began to congregate, Sheri let out a frightened whimper, holding onto her husband's arm tightly. With a small growl, he placed his large frame ahead of her as a green humanoid stepped out of the smoke. He had never witnessed an alien, much less a Namekian. With the wrinkled and discolored skin of an old, decrepit being, one would assume that the alien-like creature was no threat. Yet there was still an aura of danger that radiated around the green-skinned creature. Robert didn't have to be able to sense energy to know that this creature before him was dangerous. A cold stream of sweat dribbled down his neck as the ancient prisoner spoke.

"Tell me, in this day and age... Do people still fear the name of The Great Demon King?" He grinned to reveal fang-filled teeth that were yellow with age.

It was safe to say that the ancient Namekian's deep and reverberating voice was enough to cause chills to run down both human's spine. Yet even through that, Robert was able to get a shaking hand to the kitchen drawer and produce a large kitchen knife. He held it before him, albeit a bit shakily.

"I don't know who... or what you are. But you need to leave! Now!" Although Robert didn't make a move to attack just yet, he would if forced to. The only thing that mattered was protecting his wife. At least Shana wasn't there. He didn't want to drag his daughter into this.

Word of Shana: 255/770

Piccolo Daimao could see the fear that stained the two humans' faces -- and it delighted him. Their bodies shook, the hair on the backs of their necks stood on end, and they were paralyzed with shock. Even if time allowed people to forget who and what he was, it could never erase the terror that he instilled in them.

One of the humans -- the larger, and presumably male -- was the first one to recover from his initial reaction. The other, whom Piccolo presumed was his spouse, didn't move an inch. He shuffled a few steps over to the drawer under the cabinets and pulled it open slowly, as if the demon in his home was a predatory beast that would only react to movement. He reached inside, feeling around for anything that might be of use, and whisked out a long carving knife. He wielded it like a one-handed sword, the blade at a diagonal that slightly obscured his face.

It was almost as if he thought he could defend himself with it.

He did little more than amuse the Great Demon King, who chortled to himself at the human's response. Did this man honestly believe that a kitchen knife could defeat him?

The human swallowed hard and took a step forward, slashing wildly at Piccolo's jugular. The old demon moved his head slightly to the side and allowed the attack to hit. The blade didn't even leave a scratch on his flesh. The human pulled the blade back and stepped back, stricken with panic. If a knife weren't effective, what would possibly work? Perhaps he was thinking of getting a pistol, or calling the police, but it didn't matter to his would-be murderer.

He fingers still gripped the knife tightly, tight enough that he noticed as it was pulled out of his hand by an unseen force. Piccolo Daimao flicked one finger up, as if he were tugging on invisible strings that wound around the knife. The weapon floated in the air at the human's eye level and he crossed his eyes to look at it directly, like he was staring down the barrel of a gun. Piccolo turned his hand so that his finger was pointed straight out, and the knife rushed forward, skewering the lesser being's forehead and coming out the back side.

The knife hung suspended in the air for an instant before the Demon King put his hand aside. As soon as it hit the ground, the female let out a high-pitched shriek, one that grated on his ears and made it nigh impossible to think. He had thought for an instant to spare her, as losing so close a loved one and allowing her to remain on the earth would be more torturous than anything he could do in the short time allotted. But for that ear-piercing yell, she was going to hell with him.

The other human had slumped to the ground face first as blood and a small bit of brain tissue oozed out of his forehead. To most, it was a sickening act of cold-blooded murder. To Piccolo Daimao, he was an artist, and this was just one of his beautiful paintings.

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Word Count: 534
Word Total: 1019

"Can I stop yet? I'm exhausted!" Shana's blatant cry for reprieve was not the first objection that Okibi had heard from his host. The god of fire didn't respond immediately. It caused Shana to frown, standing up from the exercises that Okibi had been drilling her with. Wearing nothing but gym shorts and a tank top, the human would have thought that she would have kept cool. Yet sweat dripped off of her tiny frame freely from the exertion she was pumping out in the gravity chambers of Capsule Corp. "O-okibi?" Her voice, though worried, was also strained as if she were having problems with breathing. Her tiny chest rose and fell swiftly as she fought for breath.

"Something's wrong..." Okibi finally growled, sounding somber. "It feels... like a Vora, almost..."

Immediately, Shana's eyes lit up and she took a step back, nearly staggering from her own increased weight. What level of gravity was she at? Ten times that of Earth now? And even more astounding, the human remembered Blackfire mentioning that her home planet of Vegeta boasted the same amount of gravity that the human was now struggling with! But that small fact did little to stem Shana's worry about Okibi's revelation. Voracious Eaters were nothing to toy with.

"A Voracious eater?" Shana gasped out, feeling a shiver of fear grip her body. She hadn't faced off against one of the spawns of darkness for a while. And the only time she did, panic had gripped her being. The human could do nothing against the monstrosity that had tried to kill her and the rest of Setnon City's inhabitants. If it hadn't been for Trunks showing up to save her, the human's death would have been as certain as the rising sun.

"I said it was like a Vora," Okibi corrected. "It's energy is different, though. A Vora's is subtle, yet this one is boisterous. It's as if this power wants people to know.... No!" The god of fire's last word was a roar of anger, causing Shana to stumble, losing what little balance she had to crash harshly against the tile floor of the gravity chambers she had been training in.

"Wh-what is it?" she managed to choke out, feeling out for the gravity chamber's central column that held the controls. After several precious moments of flailing her arm about unsuccessfully, the human finally hit the correct button, ending the simulation.

"Shana..." Okibi's voice was somber. "I know where the power is at... I don't want you to ask me any questions. Just get to your house. Now."

---------------

"Robert! NO!" Sheri's shrill cry was almost drowned out by her sobs as she collapsed over the corpse of her deceased husband. Blood still flowed freely from the gash in his forehead; his eyes were still open, staring sightlessly ahead. The light of life had been drained from their irises, leaving behind a cold and dark core. Unbeknownst to the human, her shriek had caused the Namekian to grimace as if the high-pitched noise had bothered him. Unfortunately, with all that had transpired, the human woman was hardly thinking clearly enough to utilize the opening much less incorporate such shenanigans into any strategy that could be used against the encroaching Namekian.

Soon, though, her shrieks died down to weary sobs. Shana's mother was no fighter; the woman would have put up no fight against the green-skinned "demon" that had slaughtered her husband in cold blood. And it seemed that her time would soon come to an end as well.

Word of Shana: 593/1363

The remaining human's eyes were filled with tears. At first, there was no sound that came out of her mouth -- just silent tears dripping down the sides of her face. Then came that awful wail of hers again as she cried out the name of her deceased husband. She flung herself over his corpse; a pointless act. He was dead a fact that could never be changed, regardless of what she did to his lifeless body. Her hair became coated in dark blood as she nestled her head on his back.

She looked up at him with rounded, watery eyes, eyes that seemed to be begging for mercy. Spare me... they seemed to say. But her silent pleas fell on deaf ears.

He wondered for a fleeting moment how to best dispose of her. On one end of the spectrum, there was the thought of dragging it out slowly, making her suffer, but torture, if done correctly, took time, a precious resource for one at his age. On the other hand, he could vaporize her. It would be quick, and best of all, he wouldn't have to last through those awful, awful screeches of hers. He doubted he could stay sane -- or at least calm, as sanity had long slipped from his grasp -- if he heard that noise again. Yes, he thought, that would be the best solution.

He put one hand in front of him, angled down so that it stood between their faces. The looked at him one last time. The sobbing had stopped now and was little more than a whimper, like a newborn animal uttering its first cries in this world. But these were to be her last.

As burst of violet energy erupted from his flat palm, wide enough that part of the house was also hit in the attack. At first, there was no noise; it happened much too fast for sound to keep up. Then came the thunderous crackling sound, followed by a small explosion.

In the aftermath, bits of plaster from the home's siding had been thrown into the air, making it look like the area was dusted lightly in flower. Piccolo Daimao casually dusted it off of his robes as he looked over to inspect the damage. The two corpses lay on top of each other, her hand in his in their final moments. It would have almost been touching if he'd had any concept of "love".

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Word Count: 409
Word Total: 1428

Can't that stupid cloud go any faster than this? Okbi's snarl startled Shana. She had never heard the lion-like spawn of flames sound so furious before. His anger was comparable to a volcano's lava, beginning to spill over the edges of the mound right before it erupted completely. After a small pause, the deity of fire continued. Can't you go any faster than this?

"I-I can't fly faster than the Nimbus, Okibi," Shana said, unsure of how to respond in the face of Okibi's fury. "That's why I'm using it. But what's the hurry? Why are you so upset?" To her surprise, the god of fire fell into a grim silence once more. Unsettled, Shana stared ahead, narrowing her eyes against the wind. She almost leaped up in surprise as a drop of water slapped against her nose. With a frown, the young human looked up. Storm clouds had rolled in from the horizon at an alarming rate, and the heavens opened up, allowing a blanket of rain to fall down. It wasn't long before the entire area was being pounded upon by the sheet-like rain. It was almost impossible to see anything ahead of her, so Shana slowed the Nimbus down a bit.

No... Okibi suddenly growled, Keep going as fast as you can. I'll tell you if you're in danger. Just trust me!

"Okibi..." Shana murmmured. It was obvious that something dire was worrying the god of fire... but what was it?

We're here! Get off! Shana launched herself off of the Nimbus, doing a neat forward flip as she soared downward to the ground below. Her entire form was soaked to the bone, thanks to the rain. But now that she was outside of her house, something seemed to weigh heavily on her heart. Although the human couldn't begin to describe the feeling much less realize what it was prickling her skin in an uncomfortable way, there was a large power here. Damn it... We're too late!

Before Shana could ask Okibi what he meant, the door to her house opened. Shana's eyes narrowed as a shadowed figure stepped out.

Word of Shana: 356/1719

Author's Note: Suspiciously convenient storm clouds appearing right before our fight? I like it.

---

With a gaping hole in the wall, there was no reason for Piccolo Daimao to use the door. But he was not some common animal that would simply parade in and out of a premise from whatever entrance he pleased. He was a cultured demon, one that enjoyed the minor luxuries the world offered.

He turned the doorknob only to find that the earlier shockwave had blown it off its hinge. As soon as the latch was undone, he held up with one hand and let it fall to the ground.

What had started as a light drizzle mere moments ago was now a torrential downpour and the ground outside had turned to mud. There was a deep roll of thunder in the distance, one that seemed to make the village shake under its force. In a moment, Piccolo Daimao would be that thunder.

He stepped forward out of the doorway to see a young human standing there. The creature was so nervous she was shaking. Her dark locks were drenched in the rain. But there was a burning coming from deep inside of her, one that if it were physical would cause the rain to steam. It was a passion for life and its many virtues -- and it made the Great Demon King sick.

He stared at her with a look of disgust, but did not react. It would be the girl's next moves that would decide her fate.

---

Word Count: 241
Word Total: 1669

With the rain falling as heavily as it was, making out specific details was hard for the human girl. The first thing she noticed was the green humanoid towering over her. He looked ancient. With patchy green skin, a wrinkled face, and a sour smell emitting from his mouth, it was all Shana could do o stand her ground. Okibi was none too pleased by the alien's appearance. Shana could hear him growling all the way from Eden's realm, though it likely wouldn't be heard from the invading Namekian before her until Okibi decided to make his presence known.

Her attention was trained mostly upon the Namekian glowering down at her. Only after several moments was Shana able to grasp the bigger picture. Her entire house was ruined, basically. With a massive hole blown in the side, Shana could see the entire house.

As the smaller details began to sink in, the human had a terrifying realization. She couldn't sense her parents' presence at all! Shana... Okibi's voice sounded tense. D-don't go in there... With wide eyes as the human finally noticed the carnage before her, Shana blatantly ignored both Okibi and the Namekian before her. With a gasp of horror, she pushed her way through the ruined house, feeling that her legs no longer even belonged to her. As she drew closer to her parents' corpses, she could feel her heart beating unsteadily against her chest. Stumbling forward even more, Shana could only look down at the bloody scene. Her breath came out in rapid and shallow gasps as tears threatened to well up in her eyes.

They were dead. They were both dead. It was a cruel punishment. It seemed impossible to even rationalize such cruelty. Why... Why would somebody kill like this? Feeling the strength leave her limbs, Shana fell to her knees, choking back a wave of nausea at the sight.

"Mom....." Shana's voice was but a mere whisper. Every fiber of her being wanted to shriek, scream, and wail to the heavens above, yet she had no strength to do so. Her brown eyes traveled to her father's corpse, lying only inches away. His eyes seemed to be rested on her, yet they did not look at her directly. "D-dad?" There was no response.

The anguish in her heart seemed to swell even further until Shana thought her own heart would shatter from the painful experience. Like a dream, her mind was groggily trying to wrap around the facts. Tears splattered to the ground, lost immediately to the rain. Even though the girl was crying, it would be impossible to tell thanks to the rain. It was as if the heavens themselves were weeping for the loss of Shana's parents.

"No...no no..." Shana groaned, feeling the world spin around her. The Namekian seemed to be a detail lost in the storm of anguish gripping the host's body. And if one were able to mute the sound of the storm, it was almost possible to hear the sound of Shana's breaking heart.

Word of Shana: 509/2228

The child's line of sight strayed away from the demon king, over to the ruined house. Perhaps it was a friend's house, or perhaps the people whom he'd just murdered were her parents. It mattered not to him. All that did matter was that she had been reduced to tears. He smiled smugly as she ran around him, rushing to aid the fallen.

His sensitive ears could hear each beat of her heart, her ever bated breath as she gasped for air. And most importantly, she could hear her sobs. Fortunately, hers weren't as obnoxious as accursed woman's. "Mom... Dad..." he heard her utter ever so quietly. So she was their progeny. That just made the situation all the more delightful.

The rain came down in sheets now. It was as though the heavens themselves were crying with the young girl. He thought for a moment that he should finish her off as well, just to finish the job. But it would be so much more agonizing for her to live without the comfort of her parents, without the warmth of their love.

Like he did...

For a moment, he could see the past clearly, he could see himself, a lonely child sitting on a mountainside, waiting for his parent to come as he had promised. But no one had ever come. No one had ever loved him, had picked him and hugged him like the humans did, and it turned his heart bitter and black.

He quickly shoved the thought of his mind. This moment was too delightful to think of his own sorrow during it. He should take pleasure in another's instead. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, lighting up the area for a small fraction of a second. A second later, a crash of thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance.

And then he laughed.

It was a small laugh at first, nothing more than a chuckle. But it quickly escalated into something more, a wild, unrestrained howl of pleasure and amusement. Then it decrescendoed back into nothingness as whipped around, cape flailing in the wind, and started to walk off.

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Word Count: 357
Word Total: 2026